Tequila, my friends. (*shudder* hearing “my friends” makes me think of John McCain in the last debate. I’m sorry if you are now picturing John McCain. Picture Tequila.)
It was brought to my attention today, when I called Tequila, “my friend”, that Tequila is in fact no one’s friend.
*whacks self in head with hand* How could I be so stupid?? Thinking I can befriend Tequila is like confusing sex for love! And so with Tequila…just because it makes me warm, fuzzy and oh so smiley (and hilarious may i add)–it doesn’t mean we have a friendship. Here, all this time, I thought we *sniff* ya know…bonded.
There was that time in Philly when I made friends with all the cross-dressers at Woody’s–Helena Handbasket said she’d write! We walked around in the freezing cold, for hours, and I thought–since Tequila kept me so warm–that, ya know, we were “together”.
Then there’s time we went to the beach together and I almost died of sun poisoning. I felt so close to Tequila then.
Now that I think of it I probably would never have had sun poisoning if it hadn’t been for Tequila.
There were all those nights that I went to bed with Tequila…and when I got up in the morning Tequila was gone. I felt nothing but sick, I tell you. Sick.
Then I think of all my hard earned money spent on Tequila. I shouldn’t have to buy my way into this friendship! Why doesn’t Tequila ever pay me? I’ve anted up plenty for Tequila, sometimes even everything in my stomach, but Tequila has neglected to give me my one true desire…a friend.
So, on Friday I am headed out for happy hour with some good office friends. We’ve been talking about getting some Patron together for a long time and that time has finally come. The question is, do I continue wooing Tequila with my saucy ways or should I give up? Will we ever, ever be friends?
How would you like to really boost your weight loss motivation?…without really having to lose weight. Yesterday while stumbling around the internet like a drunken surfer I ran into this site: Weightview. I am so tempted to put my picture in and click “20 lbs lighter” however I don’t have a good full length picture of myself to get a truly excellent idea of how fantastic I’d look as a starved person. From now on I plan on taking nothing but full length pictures, running them through this sent-from-God site and then posting them on Facebook. Sure, thats me. Kodak is the best diet i ever went on.
I am reading a book by Eric Weiner; The Geography of Bliss. The author travels to different cities around the world investigating levels of happiness. So far I have learned that Iceland and The Netherlands both are very happy places to live in. People here claim to have, for the most part, overall contentment. He does a fun job of explaining the atmosphere of the people and giving the reader a feel for why these people act this way.
In Switzerland it is illegal to flush your toilet after 10pm (according to this book anyway).
I’m not sure if this is a way to conserve water or to quiet the hysteria of midnight flushing–or what the consequence may be for rebellious flushers sinking their 1AM doodoo. Is this a crime the regional forces would come hunt you down for or is it something that causes your neighbor to have to give you ‘a look’?
Are there toilet police?
Also, I found out that one of the decisions that usually results in the most amount of satisfaction and happiness is …..breast implants.
I’m still not finished reading this. It has kept me occupied for days and is actually quite enjoyable. I like the statistics and little known facts and now I know that if I should decide to move to Iceland and get a boob job I probably won’t run into any depression.
How about you? Where were you when you were happiest?
i love this.
it was summer 2006, annapolis, MD. I window shopped my way down the street while my boyfriend praddled on about how these towns are made for women. He believes men are second class citizens when it comes to stores. I agree with him and I like it. It would be nice to have a place to stick him while I peruse though.
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